by S. F. Said
Lucky looked down, and his skin prickled. The black metal was starting to glow again. The twelve symbols were beginning to glimmer. They gleamed and shimmered with a faint silver light that seemed to come from somewhere far, far away.
‘Let me see that,’ said the Captain, reaching for it. But the moment he touched it, the light flickered out, and the astrolabe looked dull and dead once more.
‘Don’t do that!’ said Mystica. ‘Let it be with the boy – only the boy. No one else is to touch it.’
Lucky held the astrolabe close, as if protecting it. And as he warmed it with his hands, he sensed the light coming back into it again.
It was glowing at his touch – and his touch alone.
‘Bizarre,’ said the Captain. ‘Why does it light up for him, and no one else? I’ve been using astrolabes all my life, and I’ve never found one I couldn’t work. I tell you, there’s something wrong with it. Perhaps a Startalker could—’
‘I think perhaps,’ interrupted Mystica, ‘this astrolabe is protected, so only the boy can use it. Why don’t you show him how it works? Would you like that, boy?’
‘Oh – yes – please!’ begged Lucky.
‘But he’s just a child,’ the Captain protested. ‘A Human child at that. You think he can waltz into it and make it work when I, Ozymandias Nox, cannot?’
‘Let him try,’ said Mystica. ‘How else is he going to find his father?’
The Captain snorted. ‘Well, there’s a simple way to settle this. Boy: put your fingers on its dials, and ask it to unlock itself. You’ll see, it won’t do a thing.’
‘Ask it?’ said Lucky nervously.
‘Yes. Think the words, in your mind.’
Lucky put his fingers on the dials, feeling foolish. But in his mind, he imagined saying the words: Astrolabe, please unlock yourself.
The instant he thought that, the dials began to turn beneath his fingers. The wheels began to spin: smoothly, gracefully, easily.
It was moving! At last, the astrolabe was moving! All he had to do was ask: something so simple, he’d never even thought of it. Bubbling with excitement, he looked up and saw the Aliens all staring at him, their eyes aflame.
‘How are you doing that?’ hissed Nox.
‘I just did what you told me,’ quaked Lucky, as the metal dials turned and turned. There was such a sensation of power under his fingertips, but he wasn’t doing a thing. The astrolabe was spinning at its own speed, following its own rhythms, like some starry dynamo, pulsing in the night. ‘So what now?’ he said. ‘How does it work?’
‘Your Human ships use starmaps to navigate faster than the speed of light,’ said Captain Nox, eyes flashing. ‘But Axxa ships travel at the speed of dark. We use astrolabes to guide our Dark Matter drives across the vast gulfs of interstellar space.’
‘Dark Matter?’ said Lucky, puzzled. ‘Like the bombs?’
Bixa scowled. ‘Is that all you know about us? Bombs? Well, the Dark Matter drive is the safest, cleanest, quickest way to travel ever invented. It doesn’t waste fuel, like you crazy Groundlings. But without an astrolabe, the drive won’t work. You’re stuck in whatever system you happen to be in – like we were, when we surrendered ours. Thanks to your government for banning our technology!’
Lucky stared down at the spinning dials, the gleaming symbols, the faraway silver light. ‘Astrolabes are your technology?’ he said.
‘Course,’ said Frollix. ‘They were made by Axxa navigators years ago. They were the highest point our science ever reached.’
Lucky frowned, trying to imagine why his father would have a piece of Alien technology. But already, Captain Nox was pointing to the astrolabe’s circumference.
‘See those symbols?’ he said. ‘They represent the twelve star systems of the galaxy. Within the astrolabe is a kind of map, encompassing all the stars and worlds we know. But it’s not like one of your Human starmaps. It doesn’t just show you the route. It actually takes you there. Well, it takes your mind there; your body remains here in a trance. Try it. Start by asking it to show you your position in space. If that works, then ask it where your father is.’
Lucky concentrated with all his might. He had to make this work. Had to. Astrolabe, he said in his mind, show me my position in space! He considered for a moment, and then added Please? just in case.
The dials picked up speed. They shimmered beneath his fingertips as the black metal disc pulsed and blazed and throbbed with light –
– and then Lucky went into the astrolabe. He became part of it. He couldn’t see Mystica’s cabin any more. Not the candles, not the incense, not the Aliens.
What he saw instead was space. Infinite black space. Open, unboundaried and free.
It was studded with stars. Millions of stars, all around him, above him, below him. The stars he’d looked up at so often from the ground – they surrounded him on every side.
They weren’t little points of light any more. Up close, they were suns: each one a giant blazing sun. Inside them burned impossible energies, stronger than the fires in a nuclear furnace, bigger than the blast of a billion atom bombs.
They filled him with awe. They were so bright, it hurt his eyes to look directly at them. But he couldn’t help it. He felt compelled to stare and stare into the scorching faces of those suns. For as he gazed at them, he had the distinct sensation that they were staring right back at him.
And as he flew among them, he became aware that he was no longer in his own body. He seemed to be in a new body: some kind of astral body that defied gravity and needed no air. A body of pure consciousness.
Every fibre of his being shivered with the strangeness of it. He needed every ounce of concentration to ask his question.
Please show me where my father is? he asked the astrolabe, in his mind.
A line of blazing silver light shot out from one of the stars. Then another line – and another – and now more and more lines were shooting out of more and more stars, joining up into spirals and webs, swirling away in every direction, to infinity, so fast it made his head spin and his stomach lurch.
What’s going on? he thought, as panic rose inside him. I don’t like this! I can’t move – I can’t think – I can’t breathe—
And then he was hurtling along the lines of light through space, totally out of control, faster and faster, further and further, spiralling all the way to the edge of space – and then over the edge, and off the map, and—
‘Stop!’ he gasped, as he fell out of the astrolabe – and landed on the floor of Mystica’s cabin.
Gravity smashed back into him with a painful crash.
He dropped the astrolabe in shock. Its silver lights winked out. Its dials all ground to a halt.
He was shaking. His head hurt. The Aliens were staring down at him with eyes of flame.
‘Goodness gracious!’ said Mystica. ‘Are you all right?’
Lucky’s heart was still racing, but at least he could breathe again. He could move. He seemed unharmed, though the panic was only a heartbeat away.
‘That was . . . scary,’ he said as he hauled himself up.
‘That was your first try?’ said Captain Nox, looking shaken.
‘Yes. I – I couldn’t do it.’
‘You panicked, and you came out of it badly,’ the Captain said. ‘But most Humans can’t get into an astrolabe at all, let alone move through it. Even the great Axxa navigators: it takes years . . .’ He shook his head, his face an unreadable mix of emotions. ‘So where did it take you?’
‘Nowhere. It just threw me off the edge of the map.’
‘Off the edge?’ The Captain picked up the astrolabe, and examined it. The dials seemed to have flipped inside out. They had twisted and turned right over, so they now appeared to be pointing outside the astrolabe altogether. ‘This doesn’t make sense,’ he said. ‘I’ve never seen an astrolabe’s dials point outwards. It’s not possible: its map contains everything in the galaxy.’ He shook his head. ‘It is as I thought. Your astrolabe must be broken,
after all.’
Lucky felt a sharp stab of disappointment. His only hope of finding his father, and it was really broken? ‘Can you fix it?’ he asked.
‘Like I said: that technology is old,’ sighed Frollix. ‘Even we don’t really understand it any more.’
Mystica coughed, and pulled her furs tighter around herself. ‘There is one person who might be able to help. The very person we are going to see, in fact. An old friend of ours on Leo Five. He specializes in ancient artefacts. If anyone can fix that astrolabe, he can.’
Lucky peered at her. ‘Could you maybe . . . take me to meet him?’ he asked.
‘Don’t you think we have business of our own with him?’ said the Captain coldly.
‘My dear!’ Mystica chuckled. ‘Without the boy and his astrolabe, we wouldn’t be back in space at all!’ She winked at Lucky, almost like they were conspirators – but then she coughed again, a deep racking cough that shook her whole body. ‘Besides,’ she managed to wheeze, ‘I rather think the Professor would wish to see this astrolabe for himself.’
A look passed between Mystica and Nox. Then Nox stood up and strode to the doorway. ‘Well, it’s a long way to Leo,’ he said. ‘If you want to stay on this ship, boy, you’d better start earning your keep. Can you do anything useful?’
‘I know a bit about starships,’ said Lucky cautiously. ‘I’ve always wanted to fly one . . .’
‘Fly?’ The Captain tossed his horns back in scorn. ‘You think I’d let you fly the Sunfire? No, I’ll tell you how you can earn your keep. First: you can maintain this ship in tip-top condition, so we don’t waste any more energy on repairs. You can clean the floors, polish the vidscreens, scrub the toilet—’
‘The toilet?’
‘Yes,’ said Captain Nox. ‘The toilet. It is now your responsibility. Second: you helped Frollix fight, so you obviously enjoy fighting, like most Humans.’
‘Uh—’
‘Good. Because Bixa is always complaining that no one will train with her. So starting right now, you are officially her training partner. You have to do whatever she wants. Are we clear?’
Lucky’s eyes grew wide with horror – but no wider than Bixa’s own.
‘Whaaat?’ she shrieked, as Captain Nox strode out of the cabin. ‘No way – I’m not training with him!’
Chapter Ten
The Sunfire’s onboard lights created a cycle of days and nights, marking the passage of time. It was three whole days before Lucky’s first session with Bixa. He spent every one of those days dreading it.
In the meantime, he found his way around. The ship was compact, and he was surprised to discover he’d already met the whole crew. It was a strange group: two old Aliens, two young, and no one in between. Lucky wondered how they’d come to crew together. Perhaps they were a family. Frollix and Bixa certainly quarrelled like brother and sister, yet Mystica and Nox seemed too old to be their parents.
It was puzzling, but he didn’t feel he could ask about it. After his discussion with the Captain, he kept his distance from them. He knew he needed them, but he still feared them – even Frollix and Mystica, who seemed to want to help him. He couldn’t afford to make them angry, or get anything wrong. He couldn’t imagine what they might do to him then. Especially Bixa and Captain Nox.
So he did his best to keep his end of the bargain. He spent hours down in the hold, cleaning the ship’s toilet, though he was dismayed to learn that cleaning toilets in space was just as disgusting as cleaning toilets anywhere else. He polished floors and vidscreens, though it was frustrating when he knew the ship itself could do the job far better. He helped Frollix keep the Dark Matter drive clean, though his occasional glimpses of the cockpit only made him wish he could help fly the ship instead.
His body slowly healed itself; his knees hurt less every day. But he never stopped feeling those waves of homesickness, or that burning hole inside him. Sometimes he felt overwhelmed with guilt that he was alive while his mother was not; that she’d sacrificed herself for something as worthless as his survival. Sometimes he felt furious at her for landing him on this Alien ship, and leaving him with so little explained.
Most of the time, though, he missed her horribly. It was so lonely without her. Mealtimes were the worst. If she’d been with him, they would surely have eaten together. Instead, he ate alone. While the Aliens had their own food, Mystica prepared what she called ‘Human food’ for him. It had no flavour and smelled synthetic, but he was grateful she’d made the effort, and ate it up dutifully.
He slept alone too, on one of the hammocks in the main cabin. Fortunately, he didn’t wake up naked again, surrounded by smoke and ashes. He shuddered when he thought about those things; he just couldn’t make sense of them. He placed his faith in his father: he would be the one to explain it all. So Lucky did his best not to think about Captain Nox’s warnings of things beyond the Wall. All he knew was that he had to get there, whatever it took.
And so time passed as they travelled through the stars: voyaging out of the Aries system, through Taurus, and past the twin suns of Gemini. He was hoping Bixa had forgotten about training when she shook him awake one morning.
‘Boy,’ she said. ‘Come with me. It’s time.’
She strode off through the cloistered corridors. He staggered and stumbled after her; he still couldn’t get used to walking on the curving floors. He was relieved when at last they reached a door – until he saw what was written on it.
At the top of the door, in big cheerful letters, it said: BIXA’S QUARTERS. Below, clearly added later, was the instruction: KEEP OUT. Finally, at the bottom, in livid black capitals: THIS MEANS YOU.
Lucky hesitated before this door, but Bixa flung it open, went in, and immediately touched the wall screen. It filled with vidpics of an Axxa singer: an intense-looking woman dressed in black, with curtains of long dark hair hanging over her face. She was rocking back and forth as she sang, her mouth wide open in a deafening banshee wail. She was making the loudest music Lucky had ever heard. Angry, raging music, with sounds like worlds ending: huge, violent, shattering sounds.
The rest of Bixa’s cabin was dedicated to fighting. There were mats and weights and charts, as well as a small but impressive collection of weapons. Also a tattered punchbag, which showed every sign of having been hit very hard, very often.
Almost as an afterthought, there was a bed folded up against the wall, with some clothes strewn around it.
Bixa took up position on a mat and faced him, scowling. She was the same height as Lucky, but he felt dwarfed by her ferocity, her focused stillness. She didn’t even blink. She just watched him across the mat, like a lioness watching her prey. Then she said something he couldn’t hear.
‘What?’ he asked.
‘I said, are you ready?’ she yelled, over the earbleed din. And then she began to move. She moved in the most mesmerizing way. She flowed like a fish through water, like water itself –
– and Lucky stared at her in shock, recognizing the way his mother had moved –
– and Bixa hooked an arm around his throat, and dragged him to the floor.
‘Wait!’ he gasped as he hit the ground. ‘What’s that you’re doing?’
Her fist stopped in mid-air, a millimetre from his nose.
He gaped up at her as she pulled her fist away, and released him. But she didn’t answer his question. ‘Your turn,’ was all she said.
The full horror of the situation hit him as he hauled himself up.
She was about to smash my face in! She’s not holding back. Whatever she’s doing, it’s deadly serious. If I don’t find some way to get through this, she’s going to kill me.
Bixa took up position on the mat again, and confronted him. Lucky looked away, shaking.
‘I said: your turn,’ she repeated frostily.
What am I going to do?
On the vidscreen, the Axxa singer reached the climax of her song, and hurled herself into the crowd.
It gave him an idea. OK,
he thought. You want to fight? Let’s see how you like this.
‘Yaaaaah!’ he screamed, as he hurled himself at her like a madman.
He tackled her. Threw his arms around her middle. The momentum knocked her off balance, and he felt a moment of satisfaction –
– until he realized that he wasn’t in control. He was accelerating, sailing through the air too fast – and Bixa – where was Bixa? Oh – she was coiled up beneath him, suspended in perfect balance – and totally in control. She was bringing her hooves up into his belly—
‘Nooooo!!!’ he screamed, as she uncoiled her legs, and flung him like a rocket at the wall. And it was the strangest thing. As he soared through the air, he thought he glimpsed the soles of her hooves. They didn’t look anything like he expected. Not like animal hooves; more like some kind of metal, flashing silver in his eyes –
– but it was just a flash, the briefest glimpse, and –
– SMASH! He hit the far wall, hard, and slumped to the floor. The room spun around him. On the vidscreen, the crowd were applauding the Axxa singer. Their cheering echoed in his ears as he lay there, groaning, gazing up at the battered old punchbag.
Bixa turned off the vidscreen, and the applause stopped. She bounded across the cabin and stood over him, squinting down at his slumped form. Was she looking worried, or was he imagining it?
‘I didn’t break you, did I?’ she said, a little stiffly. ‘I didn’t think you’d be so bad.’
Despite his pain, Lucky found himself bristling. ‘Bad?!’
‘You’re terrible. I’ve never seen anyone so terrible at fighting.’
‘Yeah? Well, I didn’t ask for this! I don’t even want to be here! Your stupid father forced me to train with you!’
‘He’s not my father!’ snapped Bixa. Her needles flashed crimson, and she looked so fierce for a moment that Lucky had to look away. But quickly, her needles cooled. ‘Look, I’m not making fun of you,’ she said. ‘I’m just surprised. It’s weird how bad you are. You don’t know how to move properly or anything. You’re so clumsy, it’s like you don’t even belong in that body.’